


sway

by idolrapper



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Excessive Drinking, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:50:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idolrapper/pseuds/idolrapper
Summary: Jeno laughed, and for a split second, Renjun felt like he could do this. Take on the challenge that was Lee Jeno, the nation’s wayward son. But then Jeno’s face went pale and he leaned over the edge of the bed and threw up on the carpet. Some of it splattered onto Renjun’s shoes.He closed his eyes. Maybe not.(Or: Jeno is a child star turned SM idol. Renjun is his manager.)





	sway

**Author's Note:**

> just a warning: this gets quite crude? it came out naturally due to the nature of the AU/premise and they're in their early 20s here, though i didn’t age them up specifically to write it this way. it was also incredibly weird to write a canon fic not from an idol's POV? do not recommend.

The first time Renjun met him, Jeno was leaning over the railing of his twelfth floor balcony in LA, his voice hoarse as he yelled, “Thank you for taking care of me! I love you!” The way his arms were splayed made it look like he had the whole ocean in his grasp.

“A real Kodak moment, isn’t it,” said a voice behind him. Renjun didn’t turn, couldn’t look away from Jeno, but he knew it belonged to one of the coordis he’d met only ten minutes ago. “Even drunk off his ass, he’s effortlessly beautiful.” She laid out an outfit on Jeno’s bed, adding, “Makes my life easier.”

“He could fall,” Renjun said. His palms were starting to sweat. He wiped them on his jeans but made no move to go over and pull Jeno inside. Something about him intimidated Renjun, and it wasn’t just his portfolio filled to the brim with CFs or his single at #1 on Melon or even the dozens of fans heard screaming at the hotel’s entrance down below.

It was the coordi’s resignation when she replied, “Make sure he wears this,” and left the room. It was Jeno turning around, eyes zeroing in on Renjun in a way that made him feel like a slab of fresh meat, and without a word, stumbling back into the room to fall onto the bed, right on top of the clothes the coordi had painstakingly smoothed out.

“You must be my new manager,” Jeno had mumbled, toying with the gaudy necklace next to his face. He rolled over, sitting up to regard Renjun again. “Hm. You’re younger than the others.”

Renjun just nodded. He didn’t mention how that was the main reason they’d hired him. Straight out of university, he didn’t have a lick of experience other than ghosting a PR agent at Cube Entertainment for a year, and he hadn’t expected to actually land this job when he sent in his application. But they decided to give him a chance, see how Jeno fared with someone his age. Renjun stepped forward, and gestured at Jeno’s hand. “That necklace is ugly but I’m supposed to get you to wear it now.”

Jeno laughed, and for a split second, Renjun felt like he could do this. Take on the challenge that was Lee Jeno, the nation’s wayward son. But then Jeno’s face went pale and he leaned over the edge of the bed and threw up on the carpet. Some of it splattered onto Renjun’s shoes.

He closed his eyes. Maybe not.

 

 

“Wake up,” Renjun hisses, poking Jeno’s shoulder with his clipboard, “Wake the hell up.”

“Wha—” Jeno mutters, his voice thick with sleep. “I feel like death. Go away, Injun-ah.”

Renjun, irritated as he is, smacks his clipboard against Jeno’s arm. It startles Jeno into opening his eyes. “You feel like death now? Do you wanna know what you’ll feel like after I’m done _killing_ you? What in the world were you thinking last night?”

“Huh? Why are you acting so surprised? I go out all the time.” Jeno itches his scalp, blinking blearily up at Renjun. The right side of his face is bright pink and pillow creased.

Renjun looks away and starts to pace. “Not like this,” he says, trying not to sound panicky as he fumbles for his phone, opening it to a picture: Jeno shoved up against a brick wall, his arms slung over the other person’s shoulders, their bodies melting into each other.

Jeno looks at the photo. There is a glimmer of surprise, maybe even embarrassment, before his mouth curves into a smirk Renjun has seen so often that it doesn’t even fluster him anymore. “It’s a shame I didn’t get his number.”

“Jeno,” Renjun says, “This—” He holds his phone up, pointing at the screen. “This is a man. YOU HAD YOUR TONGUE DOWN A LITERAL GUY’S THROAT.”

Jeno raises an eyebrow. “You a homophobe?”

“What?” Renjun squeaks, “What, _no_? I literally had a—whatever, that’s not the point. Other people are! Too many people! People who could ruin you!”

“I get it, Renjun,” Jeno says, inhaling for a long moment.

“I—I didn’t even know you liked men.” _This doesn’t change anything_ , Renjun chants to himself. “This wasn’t something you could’ve mentioned to me? So I could’ve been prepared at least?”

Jeno scoffs. “Like anything could’ve prepared you for,” he waves at Renjun’s phone, wincing, “this. How bad is it?”

Renjun sits on the edge of Jeno’s bed, placing a hand on his knee. “Not as bad as you’re imagining. The photo is blurry and pixelated and unrecognisable to anyone who doesn’t see your face all the time—”

“Great, you’ve ruled out like, one percent of South Korea’s population.”

Renjun snorts. “Please. You’re not that famous.” He probably is. “And it’s the only one out there. It isn’t trending anywhere and there aren’t any articles yet. We found it because—” Because Renjun had been scrolling through his Twitter account—the one he uses to spy on Jeno’s fandom and its inner circle—at 4AM last night. “We get alerted to shit like this. We’re going to try and get it deleted permanently.”

“The Internet is forever,” Jeno says. He’s taken Renjun’s hand into his, playing with his fingers like he’s prone to doing.

“I know, alright,” Renjun sighs, “But it’s the best I can do right now. If you hadn’t gone and done this in public we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

Jeno’s fingers still. “He wanted to go outside. I was drunk.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Renjun says, his voice gentle, “Maybe it was sabotage.”

“Maybe,” Jeno hums in agreement. After a moment, he asks, “So you really didn’t know I was into dick?”

 

 

It blows over quicker than expected, after three days and ten hours of frantic meetings at SM. The fan who snapped the photo was surprisingly compliant, didn’t want to see her favourite idol publicly crucified either. It probably won’t be the last they hear of it, but for now, it’s over. Jeno got lucky, like he always does.

But they’re in Hong Kong for an award ceremony when it happens again. There’s no picture this time, only Renjun walking into Jeno’s hotel room, getting an eyeful of Jeno strewn across the bed, a redhead in his lap, and then dramatically choking on the coffee he’d been sipping. It’s not the first time he’s happened upon Jeno in a compromising position—it’s practically part of his job description now—but they’d all been with girls and this—this is new.

“Hi, you must be Renjun,” the redhead greets him, wiping his mouth. There's a pinkish mark on his neck, right over his tiny watercolour tattoo. Renjun recognises him straight away: Lee Donghyuck, a YG vocalist. At SM Entertainment, he’s best known for getting into a month-long diss war with Mark. Ergo, SM doesn’t like Donghyuck very much.

“Hey,” Renjun throws back, narrowing his eyes just enough that it can’t be construed as rude but just so that he feels like he’s at least taken the opportunity to defend Mark’s honour. He likes Mark. He wishes he was Mark’s manager. Not Jeno, who sits up to grin at Renjun, his unbuttoned shirt falling apart, his hands still tight around Donghyuck’s waist. He doesn’t let go because he’s taunting Renjun into either leaving or telling him to stop. But Renjun’s gotten good at standing his ground. “Did you forget about dinner with Tiger JK, Jeno?”

Jeno’s eyes widen, his hands slipping away from Donghyuck. Renjun tries not to laugh. “Oh, shit.”

“You’re only ten minutes late. Get dressed.”

Jeno shares a pleading look with Donghyuck. It’s one that he perfected as a child.

Donghyuck cups Jeno’s face and kisses him again before climbing off the bed, letting Jeno get up. “I hate you but call me later, alright?” He tells Renjun, “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot,” and leaves with a wink before Renjun can ask him what the hell he’s talking about.

“Ugh,” Jeno is mumbling to himself, his fingers fiddling with his crumpled shirt, “How’d he break off this many buttons? Injun-ah.”

“Yes?”

“Find me a shirt.”

“I’m not your servant.”

Jeno frowns. “Fine,” he says, walking over to his suitcase, “I can’t believe I’m about to meet Tiger JK and I’ve got a boner.”

“Still?”

“Yes, still,” Jeno grumbles, turning to show Renjun, a foot tapping against the ground.

A strangled noise leaves Renjun’s throat. “Thanks, but I did not need to see that.”

“Made you look,” Jeno laughs, kneeling down to pick out another shirt.

“Donghyuck seemed nicer than I expected,” Renjun says, plonking himself down on the bed as Jeno changes. “I didn't know you were—” For lack of a better word, he finishes with, “Friends.”

“I’m trying to set him up with Mark hyung,” Jeno discloses, sounding bored.

“What,” Renjun says, shaking his head. “With _Mark_? But don’t they hate each other?”

“So?”

Renjun blinks. “Okay. That makes no sense to me but okay. How is hooking up with him going to help?”

Jeno pauses buttoning his shirt—an obsidian black this time that contrasts nicely against his pale skin—to rub his thumb against his fingertips. “Everything in life has a price, young one.”

“You disgust me,” Renjun splutters. He takes his palms off the bedsheets, suddenly hyperaware of the way they’re crumpled beneath his skin, and places them in his lap.

“You love me,” Jeno shoots back, combing a hand through his blonde hair.

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Are you coming to dinner?” Jeno shoves his feet into a pair of Gucci dress shoes, heels squishing the leather down, and passes by Renjun, ruffling his hair.

“Why would I do that?” Renjun says, “It’s your dinner. I’m going to the bar.”

Jeno’s eyebrows raise, and his mouth twitches like he’s dying to tease Renjun, but he says nothing. He leaves the room, and Renjun on his bed.

 

 

There’s a Jeno song playing faintly through the bartender’s radio. Renjun instinctively mouths the words, his forehead pressed against the cool marble of the bartop, even though he hates this song and almost quit after having to hear Jeno record it fifty times. He pushes himself up, his body sagging like a ragdoll, and tells the bartender, “I hate this song. I hate him.”

The bartender shrugs.

“Give me another one of those,” Renjun slurs, wriggling his fingers, “The peach drink.” Somewhere behind him, he hears Donghyuck’s high pitched laugh, and cringes. “Make it strong, please.”

An hour ago, he’d walked into the hotel bar to see Donghyuck at a table, chatting up someone from Seventeen? Astro? Renjun can barely keep up idol groups these days. Not when he has his own idol to take care of. He considered going back to his room but the wine bottles arranged on the shelf behind the bar like trophies were calling out his name. He ducked his head down and choose the furthest stool to sit at. Then began the drinking.

Renjun is halfway through his drink when Jeno shows up. His face is sort of flushed, and he looks meek, shoulders curled in even further than Renjun’s are. He doesn’t spot Renjun right away but gives Donghyuck a wave and makes his way over to the bar to order a beer. The bartender eyes Jeno for a long second before jerking his thumb in Renjun's direction and saying, “That guy over there hates your music.”

Jeno's eyes slide over to Renjun, sputtering a laugh when he sees him, face in his hands. “I think I can change his mind.” He hops onto the stool next to Renjun, prodding at his shoulder. “Injun-ah. Wakey wakey.”

A sob wracks through Renjun's frame. "I'm so sorry," he sniffs, his voice muffled by his clammy palms, “I sent you into a lion's den, didn't I? Was he scary? Did he say anything mean?”

Jeno peels Renjun's hands away, cupping his cheeks. His head tilts as he studies Renjun's face, and he looks so adorably confused that it makes Renjun's eyes well up again. “You're very drunk. I didn't even know that was possible.”

“I'm a human being,” Renjun cries.

Jeno grins. “Good. I was starting to think SM built you in a lab just to be my manager.”

“Thank you,” Renjun says, like it was meant to be a compliment.

“It was okay,” Jeno finally answers, pulling his stool closer so that their knees are touching. His fingertip skims across the knuckles on Renjun's left hand. “He was nice. Spoke a lot. I just felt like an idiot, you know? I didn't even know what to say half the time.”

“You’re overthinking again,” Renjun chides, wiping his nose with his sleeve, “Stop that. You don’t have to be perfect.”

Jeno sighs. “I know that.” The bartender places his beer down next to him a few moments later. “Hey, just so you know,” Jeno drawls, lifting his glass, “I'd definitely screw a robot.”

 

 

On Sunday, they're back to their usual routine: Renjun rouses Jeno awake at almost 4AM, they trundle into the car and head to whatever music show is scheduled for the day, and return in the evening, if they're lucky. Renjun isn't sure if it's even possible for a hangover to last this long, but his brain is still pounding against his skull, and Jeno is no help, clinging onto his arm while he drives, begging for Renjun to make a pitstop at McDonalds.

“Please, babe, I haven't gotten a pimple in over a month. I deserve this,” Jeno says. _Babe_ , Renjun scoffs under his breath. It's usually Injun-ah this or Injun-ah that. Never _babe_. Renjun’s weak, he's so damn weak. Jeno hasn't even realised yet that he's already taken a left turn to take them straight to McDonalds. “I'll give you Yerin noona’s Kakao ID.”

“I don’t want her Kakao ID.”

“But you like her. I heard you listening to her album yesterday.”

“Doesn't mean I like her like that,” Renjun says, shaking Jeno off his arm. Jeno only holds on tighter, like a sloth around a tree branch, his face cracked wide in a yawn. “You can appreciate music without wanting to marry the person performing it.”

“Whatever. I'd marry every single one of my fans if I could,” Jeno says. He rubs his eye and Renjun tells him to _cut it out, you'll only make it even more bloodshot_.

“Sounds tiring,” Renjun comments.

“Was that a dirty joke I just heard?”

“How was it a—oh. Shut up.” Renjun slows down to pull into the empty Drive Thru. “What do you want?”

Jeno plants a kiss on Renjun's temple. “I love youuuuu,” he says, before reciting his order, one that Renjun knows by heart anyway.

They sit in the parking lot at the SBS building, chowing down their McMuffins in silence. Jeno takes a slurp of his Coke that goes down the wrong pipe, and in the midst of his coughing, Renjun blurts out, “Jeno, I like men.”

 

 

Jeno breaks a bathroom mirror.

(It happens after his pre-recording. His throat is shot and he trips and almost sprains an ankle twice and though he pulls through at the end it's with such exasperation that Renjun has to turn away from the screen backstage out of mild humiliation.)

Renjun has never been scared of Jeno, not even in the beginning when looking Jeno in the eye gave him heart palpitations, but for a split second there, he was. But it's over as quick as it happened, and Jeno calms. A river of red travels from knuckle to wrist. Jeno sinks against the wall, and Renjun follows suit with a wad of toilet paper to curb the bleeding, and there isn't a sound apart from Jeno quietly muttering one through ten, over and over again.

“What do you need?” Renjun finally asks. _Do I need to scold you?_ is what he's really asking.

“Can I apologise to you?” Jeno says, grabbing Renjun's blood-soaked hand with his own. It feels grossly intimate, and Renjun tries not to feel sick. “You don't have to accept it. I just want to try. I mean, I _need_ to try.”

“Alright,” Renjun says, and listens to Jeno's apology. He was an angry kid, sometimes, but a shy, soft-spoken one at heart. Renjun has read his file. Growing up in the entertainment industry does that to you, he supposes. He's also met Jeno's mother, who not only is batshit insane, but doesn't approve of Renjun's influence. According to her, he isn't controlling enough, doesn't strive for the level of perfection Jeno needs. Behind her, Jeno had rolled his eyes, smiling at Renjun like he'd heard this talk over a thousand times. Renjun smiled back.

“Well?” Jeno finishes.

“Let's get this mess cleaned up,” says Renjun. He stands up, holding out his hand. “What changed today?” he asks, as the blood disappears down the drain.

“Nothing,” Jeno mutters, barely audible over the steady drum of water.

“You've gotten better, though. You said it yourself. So what changed today?”

“I said nothing, Injun-ah,” Jeno repeats, sharp and vulnerable.

 

 

(“Like, exclusively?” Jeno had asked, a piece of bacon hanging over his bottom lip. “I already knew you did, dude.”

“Congrats,” Renjun muttered dryly, pushing the bacon into Jeno's mouth. “Yes, exclusively.”

“Can't relate, but niiiiiiiiiice.”)

 

 

Renjun often spends 2AMs at SM Entertainment in Mark's studio. Jeno is in a practice room, doing an early run through for a B-side choreo he'll have to perform next year, and Renjun had left right before Jeno inevitably decided to take off his shirt.

“I think I might take up smoking,” Renjun says, cheek plastered against Mark's couch.

“Don't do that,” Mark says, shoving his glasses up, his mouse clicking away.

“It's a coping mechanism, hyung,” Renjun tries, fingertip trailing along the ground.

“And what do you need to cope with?”

“You know,” he mumbles.

Mark snorts. “After today's shitshow, I get it.”

“Hey, do you like Lee Donghyuck?” Renjun asks, just to be petty.

Mark's laugh cuts short and his chair swivels around so fast that he does a 360 and ends up facing his computer again. “Where'd you hear that?” Must be true then.

“Jeno, duh,” Renjun says, pointedly not mentioning the context in which he'd found out this information.

“Jeno, what?” Speak of the devil. Jeno barrels into the room, tank top slung around his neck, and exclaims, “Air-conditioning!” before flopping down onto the couch next to Renjun. Renjun scrambles away from him, nose crinkling.

“Bro, have you been going around telling people I'm into that YG kid?”

Jeno's stroking his belly, over the soft fuzz of light hair. Renjun watches the movement like a fish would if you traced your finger across a glass tank. “ _Hyung_ ,” he whines. The heat that comes with it feels like a punch to Renjun's gut. “Injunnie's not gonna tell anyone.” He looks over at Renjun, bottom lip sticking out. “Right?”

Renjun shrugs at Mark. “Your secret's safe with me.”

“But between us, Donghyuck definitely wants to suck your dick,” Jeno adds. He ducks the pen Mark throws at him, the sound of his sweat-slicked back unsticking from the leather like peeling Velcro.

 

 

The apartment is dark and eerily silent when Renjun gets in so naturally he thinks Jeno's gone out. He paces up the corridor, taking out his phone to call Jeno. He'd told Renjun that he wasn't feeling well when Renjun had left for dinner with his family several hours ago, but Renjun's heard that before, only to later find Jeno in a private booth of some Hongdae nightclub vaping with the actor who played his father on his first K-drama.

But this time, Renjun hears _I AM A GOOD BOY, I AM A GOOD GOOD_ coming from Jeno's room, which means his phone is there. Renjun opens the door to see a Jeno-shaped lump in the bed, and exhales.

“Wanna talk about it?” Renjun asks, a palm stroking down each knob of Jeno's spine.

He expects Jeno to say no, but he says, “He called. He wants money.”

“That's the third time this month, Jeno.” Renjun frowns, crossing his legs atop Jeno's quilt. “You should tell your mom.”

“You think he'd listen to her? He's an asshole but I think he's really in trouble this time,” Jeno reasons out. His head emerges finally, expression stony as he regards Renjun. Renjun nods, turning over in his head an appropriate response to something he can't relate to, something he feels so deeply sorry for, but Jeno changes the subject before he can, “How was dinner?”

“Nice,” Renjun's mouth answers. “I brought you back a container. My cousin wants your autograph, by the way, she's a huge fan. Can't understand it, really.”

Jeno's eyes curve, like the sun peeking over the horizon. “Shut up. Can your family adopt me?”

Renjun smiles too. “I'll see what I can do. You'd be a terrible brother though.”

Jeno sits up, crawling forward slowly, all feline-like, right up in Renjun's face. “I don't want to be brothers.”

“You don't?”

“No,” Jeno says. Renjun can feel his warm breath all over him, his lips liquor-wet. There'd been a half-empty can of beer on the kitchen counter. Renjun had tossed into the trashcan. “Because then I can't do this.” And then his mouth presses against Renjun's.

They kiss like that: Renjun's hand clenched around Jeno's loose shirt, Jeno's arms on either side of him, bracketing Renjun's skinny waist, lips and tongues and teeth sliding against each other until Renjun comes to his senses, driving Jeno away with a force that wouldn't be possible if it weren't for Jeno being so pliant.

“We can't,” Renjun gasps. "We can't.”

“Why not?” Jeno huffs, leaning down to attach his mouth to Renjun's throat as though he owns it. Like he can do whatever the fuck he wants. But Renjun's his manager. It's literally his job not to allow Jeno to do whatever the fuck he wants.

“Because we'll get caught, we'll get into trouble,” Renjun rambles, voice rising with every excuse, “It's unprofessional, I'll lose my job. I can't lose this job.” _I can't lose you_.

“You'd rather me hook up with strangers?” Jeno's tongue dips into Renjun's collarbone.

“No, I—” Renjun's fighting a losing battle here. “I don't want a one time thing, Jeno. I'm not good at that.”

Jeno pauses, straightening. His eyes are half-lidded but his gaze is steady. “Who said anything about a one time thing?”

“You... like me?”

“Yes!" Jeno slams his fist down onto Renjun's thigh, and Renjun yelps. “I tried to confess that time. With the girls?”

Renjun almost chokes. “That was you trying to confess?”

(He remembers that night very clearly: Jeno had knocked on his door, went on this epic spiel that ended in, “So basically there are two very horny and annoyed girls in my room right now and I need you to come over and help me out.”

“Um, no? I'm exhausted. We were at KBS all day _and_ had radio after and you've still got energy for this?”

“That's the point, Injun-ah, not for both of them,” Jeno pleads.

“Shouldn't have double booked yourself then,” Renjun tuts, disappearing under his covers. He doesn't want to look at Jeno when he's, for some unknown reason, actually considering taking Jeno up on his offer. _It's FOMO_ , he tells himself, _you just want to get laid. A foursome's still gay, right?_

“It was an accident! C'mon, it'll be fun. I'll even make out with you, if you want.”

“What's the supposed to mean,” Renjun mumbles. He's glad Jeno can't see him blush.

“Um,” is Jeno's reply. “I don't know. I should go. Can't keep 'em waiting too long, it's rude.” The door closes slowly, as though Jeno's trying not to make a sound, and it shuts with a resounding click.)

“I'm kinda bad at this,” Jeno admits.

“No kidding,” Renjun says, and yet he’s still so far gone for him. He edges closer, despite himself. "We should talk about this.”

“Aren't we talking now?”

“No,” Renjun replies, almost smirking at how flustered Jeno's become, and with a rush of courage, kisses Jeno again.

 

 

Renjun watches Jeno perform from backstage, absentmindedly clicking his fingers along to the trop house beat of his latest title track, and has his clipboard ready to brief Jeno on the back-to-back interviews he has after the show. 

Jeno, however, has other plans, drawing Renjun into his side as they walk down the corridor to his dressing room, stopping briefly to bow at Taeyeon and a couple guys from GOT7. A long-suffering sigh is preemptively tugged out of Renjun when Jeno presses his mouth against the shell of Renjun's ear, and says, “So, you know Na Jaemin? From Donghyuck's group? He thinks you're cute.” He pulls away to pout at Renjun. “Can we?”

**Author's Note:**

> WILL YOU SWAY WITH ME? GO ASTRAY WITH ME?
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/twinjinx) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/millennium) ♡


End file.
